“Of course,” Alexander says, his voice serious.“I want to introduce the woman I love to my parents and brothers.”
My jaw practically hits the floor.The woman he loves?He’s laying it on way too thick.
“I’ll walk you out, Dad,” I say quickly, desperate for escape.
Dad gives me a quick hug and kisses my forehead.“It’s good to have you home, Livie-girl.”
“Come on,” I grab Alexander’s hand, ignoring the way my skin tingles at the contact.“Let’s walk Dad to his truck.”
Outside, the winter air bites at my cheeks, a welcome relief from the warmth that’s been building inside me since Alexander’s performance began.Alexander and I watch Dad climb into the truck, his eyes lingering on the brand new car next to him.I can tell he would much rather be driving that right now.A wistful smile tugs at my lips at seeing how happy he is.
Waving as Dad pulls out of the driveway, I whirl on Alexander the moment his truck disappears around the corner.“What are you doing?”I hiss, my voice low.
Alexander takes a step closer, his expression amused.“I believe I’m being an attentive boyfriend.”
“You got him a car?A car?!Meeting your family?‘The woman you love’?”My voice rises with each word.“They’re going to be devastated when this ends!”
“Who says it’s ending?”
I freeze, staring at him.“What?”
A slow smile spreads across his face, and he gently takes my hand, his fingertips brushing against my wrist.“I’m kidding, Olivia.”
My heart is doing an Olympic gymnastics routine in my chest.“It’s not funny.”
“Your parents believe us, don’t they?”His fingers drift lightly over my skin, making it hard to concentrate.
“Yes, but?—”
“Then our plan is working.”He leans down, his breath warm against my ear.“Just play along.”
I shiver, and it has nothing to do with the December chill.“You’re enjoying this way too much.”
“And you’re not enjoying it enough.”His eyes crinkle at the corners when he grins.“Where’s your Christmas spirit?”
“I left it in New York, along with my sanity.”But despite myself, I feel a smile tugging at my lips.
He brushes a strand of hair from my face, and my breath catches.“We should go inside before your mother comes looking for us.”
I watch him walk back toward the house, the confidence in his stride, the way his sweater stretches across his shoulders.I’ve seen Alexander Castellano in boardrooms and benefit galas, in crisis meetings and victory celebrations.I’ve seen him command rooms full of billionaires, reduce grown men to stammering messes with a single raised eyebrow.
But I’ve never seen him like this—relaxed, charming, devastatingly attentive.
And the scariest part?I like it.I like the way his hand feels in mine, the casual touches, the soft kisses.I like how he looks standing on my parents’ front porch, like he somehow belongs here.
“Coming?”He turns at the door, one eyebrow raised in question.
My heart does a little flip that has no business happening.This is all pretend.In a few weeks, we’ll go back to New York, back to our professional relationship.Back to Mr.Castellano and Ms.Hartley.
“Olivia?”He’s waiting, patient but expectant, those gray eyes holding mine.
“Yeah,” I say, forcing myself to move forward.“I’m coming.”
As I reach him, he slips his arm around my waist, drawing me against his side like it’s the most natural thing in the world.“Relax,” he murmurs against my hair.“You look like you’re heading to the gallows, not returning to your mother’s famous hot chocolate.”
“How did you know about her hot chocolate?”
His smile is enigmatic.“I pay attention.”
